


The Moment

by HouseOfFinches



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, cant stop won’t stop, why am i like this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 10:34:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14692410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HouseOfFinches/pseuds/HouseOfFinches
Summary: Wanda realizes she loves Vision. All fluff, no smut





	The Moment

It was a moment of nothing, that space that exists between those memorable events, the time between thoughts and memories.

 

When nothingness was novelty, however, it had a way of becoming _something._

And it was in that lull, that space of blankness, that she found a spark. It was hot and bright and small—the way brush burns before it turns into rolling tides of flames—flickering and unstable.

 

It was the way she woke up reaching for him and finding emptiness. The way his pillow smelled distinctly like him—male and human yet electric, other.

 

It was the way there was a hot cup of coffee waiting for on her bedside table. It was in the significance of her drinking coffee these days.

 

It was the soft patter of the water of his shower, the low sound of him softly humming to himself. The way that knowing he was bare and wet and lathered pulled her from beneath the bed’s covers, drawing her to him, to feel him against her skin.

 

Watching him, unaware of her presence, the way his body was proud and broad and beautiful—crafted as if made to please her. The smell of the hot water in the air, the way it mixed with his soap, heady and masculine, a scent that was tied deeply the neurons at her core.

 

And it was here, in this nothingness of a moment, in the anticipation of undressing herself and wrapping her arms around his waist, that she felt that flicker.

 

It stung at first, the realization draining the blood from her cheeks and pooling heavily in her stomach.

 

And for a second she panicked—fight or flight, an urge to _run._

Feelings were funny like that—springing up from unknown depths to catch its recipient off guard.

 

And off guard she was.

 

She let it wash over her, this warmth that threatened her solitude. She thought to fight it—that maybe she should resist the way it settled so easily into her bones, depositing itself like minerals.

 

But she didn’t have the energy.

 

Not when she gazed upon him, innocent and earnest and _good._

He was so good, and it terrified her. And it was that insecurity that staved off naming this feeling, staved off giving in entirely.

 

Her love for him would be a stain on his _goodness._

And so she left it unspoken when she stepped next to him, hot water rushing over where her arms met his flesh. 

 

She ignored the way his _“Good morning,”_ felt like prayer, like awakening. 

 

She denied the way his soft smile filled her with this feeling, something so new and unknown and thrilling—terrifying.

 

She let it fall to nothingness. And yet nothingness has a way, when its novelty, of becoming _something._

 

 

 


End file.
